


I’ll Be Your Wingman In Bed, Too

by Pink_and_Velvet



Series: Writers Month: August 2019 [25]
Category: Top Gun (1986)
Genre: Aircraft Carrier, Anal Fingering, Bi curious, Blow Jobs, Developing Relationship, Family, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, Missing Scene, Talking, Wingmen, canon character death, round two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-28 11:10:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20425001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pink_and_Velvet/pseuds/Pink_and_Velvet
Summary: How is Maverick meant to admit anything with Iceman there? His gorgeous hands, his tender lips... on him. With Iceman, all around him.Writersmonth Day 28 Prompt:Family





	I’ll Be Your Wingman In Bed, Too

**Somewhere in the Indian Ocean: Summer 1986**

Together they lay slick with sweat, cramped close in Iceman’s bunk. He’d bolted the door and it seemed as though, Slider was more than happy to give them the night. It wasn’t like he was blind.. or deaf for that matter.

Iceman loomed above him, his huge body blanketed Maverick who squirmed underneath his insistent touches. Those lips, softer than his pillow, were lighting small fires up his skin as Iceman moved up and down his stomach, his neck and then he settled for hovering just above Maverick’s parted lips.

“What happened to your father?” Maverick hadn’t expected that.

Iceman rolled himself partly off of Maverick and caught his breath. He didn’t have much space so he wrapped one leg across Maverick’s who, maybe was or maybe wasn’t about to admit what the proximity was doing to him. Iceman propped himself up on one hand, his eyes trailing over Maverick’s muscled torso.

“All I had heard was that you were pretty much Navy inbred. That was from Hollywood, I never knew whether to take it seriously.”

Maverick chuckled. “Couldn’t have put it better myself.”

“So, it’s true?”

“You what, Kazansky?”

“That he was a pilot? Or was he out at sea?”

“Pilot, yeah.”

“He must’ve had some incredible stories, Mitchell.”

“I wouldn’t really know.” Maverick trailed off and the sudden lull in the conversation didn’t go unnoticed by Iceman.

“Mitchell, what do you mean? Were you not very close?” Iceman’s eyes looked weary, as though he knew all of the answers and was only speaking for the sake of it. To keep Maverick in the loop, to keep him conscious. “When did it all happen?”

Maverick took a shaky breath, rubbed at his face with his hand then brushed some of the sweat from his forehead. Iceman leant over and kissed his cheek, pulling away with a beautiful and genuine smile.

“He disappeared November 5th 1965. For years I had been told it was his fault, that he’d screwed up. That and I’d never know why.”

“Classified?”

“Classified. I never believed any of it, there was no way. My old man was a great fighter pilot.”

Iceman just listened, his fingers absentmindedly began to trace circles on Maverick’s thigh. Those nimble intruders were getting closer and closer to the strain that tented the sheets. Maverick winced.

“Is that why you were always second best up there?” Iceman gripped him, running a smooth hand up and down his length.

“Ice!” He yelped. 

“You always had to have something to prove. Someone to prove wrong, didn’t you?”

Their eyes locked and Maverick’s jaw clenched, the conversation was eerily familiar. Although this time, it was easier. He wanted to say it, nearly as much as Iceman wanted to hear it.

Maverick couldn’t help himself, he began to writhe in Iceman’s grasp.

“The night before.. graduation, shit,” Iceman had yanked him hard that time, “Viper told me he could’ve made it. He went back.”

“They flew together? You didn’t know?” Iceman soundly strangely compassionate but Maverick choked that up for him and those gorgeous hands being in places that had Maverick thrusting into his touch.

Maverick just shook his head but it wasn’t as though the full body shiver went unnoticed.

“And your mother?” Iceman released him and slowly pulled at the Navy issue sheet.

He bought them both to air and Maverick’s green gaze widened at the sight of himself and then his gaze fell to Iceman, eyes dark and lips parted. It sent another jolt to his groin that now ached for contact.

“She immersed herself in her records, I never saw much of her. She’d just ask.. where ya going?” He asked as he felt the mattress creek. Iceman was then straddling him, his long legs were half hanging off the edge of the tiny bed.

Iceman’s mouth answered his question but he didn’t use any words. His perfect lips kissed it, his piercing pale eyes hungry on Maverick as he did so. Maverick groaned and tried to not thrust up against him.

“She stopped.. talking.” His voice cracked plenty.

Iceman crawled up to meet Maverick’s face.

”She died shortly after.”

Maverick gasped slightly as he watched with intent, Iceman set his hands at either side of his face. Their lips met, the kiss long and slow. After he pulled away, Iceman nuzzled his neck, lying up against his shoulder.

“You haven’t got anyone else, Mitchell? You’ve been alone all of this time?” Iceman sounded incredulous, genuinely concerned.

“Goose.” Iceman stopped what he was doing, his jaw twitched.

He again stretched his lean body out against Maverick who finally realised how much of a dire state the two of them were in.

“I’ve al-way- always.. been alone.” Again his voice cracked as Iceman slowly began to move against him, their hips rocking together. “It was never.. okay,” He hissed cutting himself off as Iceman’s nails raked at his sides.

“Mitchell, no matter what you think.. we’re you family. Whether I take up that position at TOPGUN or not, I’ll be here for you.” Iceman’s tone was persuasive although it wasn’t forceful.

Maverick tried to answer but Iceman’s mouth just swallowed his words. He kissed Maverick, warm and tender, a presence stable enough to steady him. Iceman kept rocking his hips and he broke away with a moan as Maverick’s hands went wandering: they clutched at his ass. 

“Round Two, Lieutenant Kazansky?” Maverick already had a finger pushing its way through.

Iceman let out a string of vowels and a deep sigh, he nodded his head and tried with all his might not to hump Maverick’s own erection as his finger penetrated him deeper.

“Fuck yeah, Mitchell.” His voice was deep, having fallen to a dangerously desirable syllable, “fuck me.”


End file.
